


Lower Your Voice

by BespokeSmut



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BespokeSmut/pseuds/BespokeSmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benedict tries to make you come using only his voice....</p>
<p>(Please note that this is a fictionalized account of a real person, and no inferences about the real person are implied)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lower Your Voice

There was a note on the front door when I got home: “I’ve poured you a glass of wine and left you instructions on the hall table.” 

Curiosity – and a fairly grown-up tingle – spread through me. Ben was excellent at surprises, both romantic and passionate, and the purposeful tone of the note promised an especially memorable evening. Opening the door, I put my black leather computer bag down – full of work that was clearly not getting done tonight - and hung up my coat. 

As promised, a glass of Syrah sat on the half-moon hall table next to a cream-colored envelope that said, simply, “read me.” I took a sip of the wine, letting its warmth run through me as I held the envelope, enjoying the anticipation. Where was he? Surely he was home, but where in the house was he hiding? Was he watching me right now, a self-satisfied grin spreading across that mischievous face? The thought of that grin, that face, sent another shiver through me, and opening the creamy envelope, I pulled out the heavy linen-stock card inside. 

“Welcome home, darling. Take your wine up to the bedroom, and change into what I’ve left there for you (and, needless to say, nothing else). Take as much time as you need. Relax. I’ll see you soon…but you might not see me.”

I took another sip of wine, and started up the stairs to our bedroom on the second floor of the flat. I moved slowly, savoring the warmth of the wine, and the deeper warmth that was slowly spreading through my body. I realized I was still carrying the envelope, and I turned the tone of the note over in my mind. Not too stern, which ruled out a few of our favorite games. But still, Ben was letting me know we’d be playing by his rules tonight. And then there was the riddle…might not see him?

Rounding the corner of the bedroom, I looked up, wondering if perhaps he’d be waiting there for me, holding out his hands before folding me in a warm embrace. But all I saw on the bed was a red, silk scarf and another note: “Cover your eyes, please. No peeking.” Ah, riddle solved. The next sip of wine was more of a gulp. 

No man has ever made me feel more beautiful in bed. Ben has a way of enjoying my body so completely, moaning in my ear that it is a delicious miracle, that I have no choice but to see – and feel – it the same way. But suddenly the thought of being naked and blindfolded without knowing where he was or what was in store felt a bit intimidating. And exciting, I realized suddenly, noticing my breath was already growing shallow and my heart beating faster. 

I glanced around me, wondering again where he was waiting, whether he was imagining my excitement, whether it was making him hard thinking about it. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realized my nipples were already straining against my blouse. I could stop this any time, but I would be a fool to call it off. If you have to put your fate entirely into another person’s hands, I could think of no hands I’d rather be in. 

Taking another sip of wine and a deep breath, I began unbuttoning my blouse. Kicking off my shoes and shimmying out of my skirt, I took a minute to brush out my hair and relax, before finally slipping out of my underwear and onto the bed. With a stomach full of butterflies, halfway between delight and fear, I tied the scarf around my eyes and lay down on my back. I willed myself to breathe, and relax. 

I felt like I had goose bumps, and ran my right hand down my left arm. The delicious tingle this created led my hand across my stomach, to play lightly across the sensitive skin underneath my left breast. I could feel the nipple tighten as a shiver ran between my legs. Squirming a little, my left hand wandered down towards my sex and my right hand squeezed my breast. I felt the cool cotton of the duvet cover underneath me as I shifted, hungry for more contact. Apprehension forgotten, I gave in to temptation. Parting my sex, I ran my fingers across the damp folds and found my clit with a small sigh of relief.

I hadn’t even heard him come in, lost in my growing, selfish pleasure, but suddenly I heard his voice scolding “uh, uh, uh!” and I froze. Under other circumstances, I would have invited him to join me, but I felt like I’d been caught at something. Something in his tone of voice….a delicious warning….a promise that my compliance would be amply rewarded.

“It’s not that I’m not enjoying the view, darling. I could watch that all night. It’s just that I have other plans. Now do you think you can restrain yourself or do I need to help?”

I could hear the smile in his voice – oh, that voice! The warmth of good scotch coupled with the rumble of a sleeper-car, rolled up in velvet. I would do anything that voice asked, so I pulled my hands back and let my arms relax by my sides in response.

The bed shifted again as he lay down beside me, and now the voice was closer, his head on the pillow next to me. “Are you sure you can’t see?”

“No,” I replied, “You said no peeking.”

“Good girl.”

I reached out a hand – I needed contact – and realized with surprise that he was still fully dressed as I stroked down his chest and came to rest on a belt-buckle. There was a satisfying twitch south of the buckle, and I grinned before Ben took my wrist and gently pulled it above my head. He ran his other hand down my arm, and all the way down my side to my hip, sending a delicious chill through me. Then he brought my other arm above my head, holding both my wrists firmly with one hand. 

In a moment he was covering my body with his, legs and arms enclosing me, his weight pushing me into the bedding, as he kissed me so sweetly and passionately I didn’t know whether to moan or cry. I arched up against him, exploring his mouth, his chin, his neck, whatever I could reach. I felt his stubble scratching deliciously against my cheeks and neck, the rough linen of his shirt rubbing against my nipples, and his growing erection pressing into my sex. His thighs held mine together, and I felt both exposed and completely safe lying naked beneath him. 

And then, just as quickly, he rolled back off, and I cried out at the loss of contact. He still lay beside me. I could hear his ragged breathing inches from my ear as he struggled to regain control. 

“Please,” I said, torn between wanting to see what came next, and a wish to take advantage of his seeming moment of weakness. My breasts felt tight, and heavy. I pressed my legs together. I needed to be touched. I started to reach for him, and he quickly pinned my wrists again. 

“Can you stay still? If you can stay still, we’ll continue. If you can’t, everything stops.” 

His breathing was becoming more even, and I registered my own pounding heart and ragged breath with annoyance. For a moment I bridled at the scolding, muscles still tense. Then another thrill of anticipation ran through me. His sternness masked a deeper warmth, and I knew my obedience would be worth the effort.

“I’ll be good,” I said, willing my muscles to relax.

“Darling,” came the voice again, so close to my ear I could feel his breath on my cheek. He stroked two fingers across my cheek, pulling a stray hair back behind my ear. I could smell him, a mixture of soap and leather and traces of sandalwood from the cologne he had put on this morning. The mix of familiar and unknown heightened my arousal. My cheeks prickled from contact with his stubble, and from the blood rushing into them. My whole body pulsed, aware of his every movement, wanting desperately to fold my body into his, warring with my promise to be good.

One of his hands traced lazily down my body, outlining the curves of my breasts and belly and hips. I strained upwards, arching towards his touch, imagining his slender fingers against my skin. His voice was full of lust and reverence as he murmured “so beautiful,” letting his palm, finally, come to rest cupped around my mons. He leaned down then, kissing my neck slowly, and I felt his eyelashes brush against my skin. I pressed my hips upward into his hand, waiting to see if he would scold me again. He resisted this silent plea for more pressure, pulling his hand away again.

“Darling,” he half-whispered, half-growled in my ear, “do you think you could come just from the sound of my voice? Do you think if I told you all the delicious things I want to do to you, the delightfully dirty things I think about all day, the frankly distracting ideas I have of how to give you pleasure….do you think if I whispered them in your ear that you could come without being touched?”

My skin vibrated in resonance with his voice and I shivered. Could I? Blindfolded, every other sense seemed heightened, the cool air on my taught breasts and nipples, the warmth radiating from Ben, the smell of his soap, the scent of my own arousal. I knew his questions were rhetorical. I felt my sex clench in anticipation.

In a voice so low the whole room seemed to vibrate, he went on.

“I watched you get out of the shower this morning. I watched you pat yourself dry, attending to every inch of your smooth, soft skin. I wanted to take you right there, still damp and dewy and glowing from the hot water. But I was late for my call – do you remember? So I had to settle for a kiss. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day.”

I shiver ran through me. I didn’t know he’d been watching. But I did remember the kiss – hard and full of contagious longing. My nakedness pressed against his cotton shirt, the hint of an erection as he squeezed my ass before pulling himself abruptly away. If I hadn’t had a meeting first thing, I might have been forced to get back into bed and finish what he had started. 

I pressed my thighs together, feeling the heavy ache in my center, and again resisting the impulse to rip off the blindfold and climb on top of him. The excitement of obeying him, and the threat of not getting to hear more, were creating an irresistible tension.

“Tell me,” I said.

“I wanted to lick you dry and then wet again, drop to my knees and worship your skin with my tongue. I wanted you fast and hard, then slow and sweet, until we both collapsed. I wanted to feel the cold tile beneath my back while I was pressing into your velvet warmth, watching you take your pleasure above me. I wanted to take you from behind, while you watched yourself in the mirror, your eyes glazing over with lust as I push into you again and again and again, reaching between your legs to heighten your pleasure”

His words were having their desired effect. I felt my clit pulse and jump.

“Tell me,” I gasped, licking my dry lips.

“I was hard at work all day today, darling” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice now too. “I thought about laying you out just as you are now, naked….ready….waiting….wanting.”

The well-timed pauses left me aching with anticipation. The low rumble of his silken voice shuddered through me.

“Imagine me pulling apart your thighs….can you feel it, darling? My mouth, kissing up your inner thighs where you are so soft and sweet, my warm breath tickling your skin, as I move slowly upwards towards your center….”

And I did feel it, as if that soft, wet mouth were tracing a path up from the back of my knee, with luxurious, infuriating slowness.

“You’re so wet, my love” he whispered in my ear, “I can’t wait to taste you, dipping my tongue between your lips, swirling it around the center of your pleasure, pressing my mouth against you fully as you buck and roll against me. The sound of your moans drives me crazy, love, you know it does, and I want more, pressing the flat of my tongue against you, dipping inside, feeling you pulse and quiver against me. Being surrounded by your sweet smell and taste. Growing hard just from feeling you, torn between my own need and wanting to stay between your thighs forever.”

My mind was reeling with the images he was painting, and the memories my own mind was calling forth. His stubble against my inner thigh, his moans against my center sending vibrations coursing through my whole body. I groaned, my body arching involuntarily against a lover who wasn’t there, except in my mind. And his. Breathing faster, I could feel the wetness between my legs, covering my thighs. Every inch of my body was humming with electricity and need.

“More,” I groaned.

“I pull myself away, nibbling and sucking and biting my way up your belly, palming your breasts, feeling your nipples pressed into my hands, as the weight of my body pushes you into the bed, my breath on your neck….can you feel how hard I am? Can you feel how much I need you?”

And in my mind I could, and my body was reacting as though it was happening, feeling alternately cold then hot, spasms of pleasure running through me. Imagining his hardness pressed against my thigh, I felt my center open, ready.

“I press myself against you, sliding in between your thighs, feeling your heat against my hardness, before beginning to press against you. Just a taste, love, I want to watch your face as I push inside you.”

I imagined his pupils dilating with lust as he lay beside me, still touching me only with his voice. In my mind’s eye I saw the pale azure seas of his eyes during rough and dark as he watched my body responding to his words. 

Suddenly I needed to look into those eyes and I began to turn towards him again. In a moment he was straddling me, pinning my wrists above my head again, holding his weight above me so I could feel his warmth, but couldn’t touch. With a start, I realized I could feel his skin where his knees held my hips firmly – when had he undressed? But then I didn’t care because his face was above mine, his mouth no more than an inch from my lips. I wanted to reach up, and I wanted him to continue, and I was grateful for the strong hand that kept mine pinned. The feel of him at my wrists, his knees holding my hips in place, felt like the only thing keeping me from spinning out of control. My skin felt so hot, so sensitive, that a touch might burn, and at the same time I ached for his touch. I could smell him, feel his muscles jump as he struggled for control.

“I need you inside me,” I moaned.

“I know, my love,” he answered, “but first you’re going to come for me. I know you can feel me. I know your body remembers how it feels when I start pushing inside you, inch by inch….”

And it did, my cunt clenching around a phantom cock, recalling the sensations of being stretched and pressed and touched everywhere, until the entire universe existed just in this sensation. I gasped out his name.

“Oh god, love, I can feel you pulsing and pressing around me, pulling me deeper inside…”

My hips involuntarily bucked upwards, Ben’s knees reminding me that my physical body was held firmly in place while his words took me somewhere else entirely.

“You’re so warm, so beautiful, your hips pushing up to meet mine, urging me on. I can’t resist, love, I have to pull myself out and thrust into you again. Can you feel me? Pulling and pushing, your body begging me for more, the agony of separating for even a moment before the relief of filling you again…and again…and again…”

I cried out. I could feel my hips moving slightly, somewhere that felt very far away, as the center of my sex burned hotter and higher. I was no longer aware of the room, of my body, of anything except Ben’s voice, keening higher and more urgently, before dropping low with lust and need.

“Come for me, darling, I can feel how much you need it, you feel so good as I fill you, taking you, my beautiful girl.”

And suddenly even Ben’s voice dropped away as shattering waves of pleasure radiated up and out from my center, rolling through me in a delicious agony. I cried out again, every inch of my body clenched in pleasure. In the distance I could hear Ben urging me on, murmuring my name and a thousand tender words. 

And then, just as I felt myself returning to my body, I felt Ben plunge himself inside my still pulsing sex, moaning and calling to me. No longer trying to maintain the pretense of authority, he pressed against me and into me with relief. My body welcomed his hardness, welcomed the sudden press of warm skin on top of mine, the breath on my neck as he buried his face there. Hands liberated, I ran my fingers down his back, pulling him too me more tightly as he buried himself in me over and over again, coaxing fresh waves of pleasure from my center. Over-sensitive, I bit into his shoulder, causing another groan and shudder to run through him.

“I’m going to come again,” I whispered into his ear, rocking my hips hard against his, savoring the pressure against my clit, the feeling of his fingers digging into my hips.

“You’d better,” he growled back, sending vibrations through his chest and into mine, the warmth and timbre of his voice wrapping around me for a moment of distilled, raw, sensuality before I felt myself come apart into a thousand pieces of shattered light. I could Ben groan, as he coaxed the last few shudders of pleasure from me, before allowing himself to climax. Tightening above me, eyes squeezed shut, I watched his beautiful face dissolve in bliss, felt him pulsing inside me, held him close, pressing kisses against his mouth and face and neck. His muscles relaxed, and he wrapped me tight in his arms, our chests rising and falling against one another.

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta-tested, and my first attempt, so feedback is appreciated! What "worked" for you? What do you wish there was more/less of? Thanks for reading!


End file.
